


Santa's Helper

by DarthSuki



Series: Suki's Guilty pleasure Reader Inserts [5]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Shopping, Fluff, Little kids absolutely convinced that Fenris is one of Santa's elves, M/M, POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthSuki/pseuds/DarthSuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's interesting enough having a boyfriend who is technically from another, alternate universe. It's even more interesting when that boyfriend happens to be a white-haired, lyrium-marked, broody elf. He may be somewhat obsessed to video games (partially your fault), and convinced that the cell phone is the work of blood magic to some degree.</p><p>But the most interesting (and hilarious) thing of all? Little kids are convinced he's one of Santa's helper elves. Maybe the pointy ears might have something to do with that?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Santa's Helper

**Author's Note:**

> Items to replace in a word editor with find/replace for EPIC reading experience:
> 
>  
> 
> _Example:_  
>  Find what: g/c  
> Replace with: Wii U
> 
>  
> 
> Name: y/n  
> Age: y/a  
> Eye Color: e/c  
> Hair color: h/c  
> Hair Length: h/l  
> Hair Texture: h/t  
> Favorite Gaming Console: g/c  
> Favorite Game for Console: g/g  
> Favorite Mall/Fast Food Restaurant: f/r  
> Name of best friend: b/f

It's a wonder that so many people can fit in such a seemingly small space. Groups of people walk along the wide walkways and halls of the mall, as if moving to some unknown flow, like a river. They part at the intersections, some one way and others another. The venders in the middle of the walkway are more than busy, given the time of year, trying to capture the fervent attentions to any who stray too closely to their small koisk. It was hard to keep far enough away from these individuals, no matter how one might try. The number of people walking and shopping in the mall simply made it too difficult.

That's how y/n finds himself, half-interested and speaking to a man at one of these many kiosks in the center of the main walkways. y/n does his best to appear interested, if only for the sake of being polite, but gently turns down the offer to purchase the item (some sort of bejeweled hat that apparently connects to a cell phone?). The young man quickly high-tails it away before another vender can flag him down and capture him in their offers one more. After all, he really needs to find where his shopping partner had wandered off to.

Well, lost would probably be a far better term for what y/n believed that has happened. It isn't as if his friend has been in a mall much at all before, and he was nervous enough when he was standing beside his partner that the man would get confused--or worse, get himself in some sort of trouble. Attention was exactly what they certainly /didn't/ need.

y/n runs a hand through his h/l h/c hair, about ready to start yanking handfuls out at the rate he was going. He hasn't seen the other since they left Sears and got separated.

Who knows where he could be? For the shortest and most desperate of moments, y/n considers trying to call him on the cell phone he was told to carry. It really isn't the best of ideas, considering how he does little else besides glare at the small machine. 

Considering what he had been used to in his own life and universe, y/n can't really blame him. Still, it's the only thing he's got as an option, and the other had been instructed more than enough to know how to answer the cell if called.

E/c eyes search when y/n moves with the flow of the crowd into the food court. People are bustling everywhere, and it's hard enough not to run into anyone, or in turn get knocked over. Of course, it's nearly impossible to pick out a single person in the madness, regardless if that single person is white-haired, tall as hell, and with bright markings covering his skin. 

He probably has his hood up as well, as you've noticed how incredibly insecure he is whenever y/n tries to take him out. Might have something with kids constantly asking about the ears. Those are the one things that are difficult to explain. Most humans don't have pointy ears, after all.

A few minutes later and y/n's pulling out his cell phone from his pocket, flipping it open and looking for the other's phone number. He can only pray that the other will pick it up as he pushes the call button, but before his finger can press anything y/n is roughly shoved into. The young man falls to the floor, landing painfully on his side with the cell phone skittering out of his grasp and across the floor. A surge of dull pain lashes from his hip and y/n huffs out a low curse, though when he turns his eyes to look at the offender his expression melts into relief.

"Fenris!" y/n hisses out as he pushes himself back up to his feet. The offender, clad in his seemingly favorite black sweater (hood pulled up to cover most of his messy white hair), doesn't seem to have noticed who he knocked over until y/n's voice catches his attention.

"Where did you go?" Fenris hisses in likewise emotion, brows pulling angrily together on his face, though his eyes are far less so. He looks more like a child that had gotten lost in the supermarket. When y/n finally manages to pluck his phone back from the floor (not so worse for wear), Fenris reaches out and grabs his arm. "I was asked by several people about purchasing these noisy items and I swear to the maker I was about to tear their throats out." y/n reacts at first to the sudden grabbing of his arm with a step back, but Fenris merely hangs on, fingers holding firm, but gentle in the cloth of y/n's shirt. It did well to reinforce the lost child analogy, especially as Fenris' angry expression melted into relief as he sighs. "...I don't like being here, I obviously don't exactly fit in."

"Considering you're not even supposed to be in this universe," y/n pointed out with a gentle poke of his free hand to the elf's chest. "That isn't all that surprising. The only elves we have are small and help make toys." More or less. y/n has yet to introduce the Lord of the Rings trilogy to Fenris and the others, as soon as those with Templar and chantry background stop being convinced the DVD player was an enchanted, magical item.

"I still find that mildly offensive," Fenris rebutted, his lips pursing tightly. “I am neither small, nor make toys like some sort of servant. What sort of stereotypes do you have in this universe-“

“Fenris,” y/n sighs, patting a hand on his shoulder. “It was just a joke. Don’t get all spiny about it, alright?” He leaves his hand on the other’s shoulder, fingers gently rubbing into the soft fabric of his sweater. In a lot of ways he couldn’t blame Fenris for a lot of his fears, worries and annoyances.

If anything, the young man felt that the warrior was doing quite well, considering the circumstances. “Come on then; I got most of my shopping done, so we can head home now.” After a few moments of silence, y/n smiles and gently moves his hand to hold the elf’s own, fingers interlacing without too much hesitation from either party. In response, Fenris merely huffs.

“You live in a strange world, y/n.”

“Hey, I could say the same thing about your own.” He wouldn’t exactly use the word ‘strange’. More like ‘amazing’, or ‘fantastic’. “Where you guys have magic, we have technology.”

The both of them start walking again, hands held together with fingers interlaced. The food court is horribly busy, and y/n keeps close to Fenris in a half-worry that he’ll get knocked over again by someone else. At least this time his phone is safely tucked back in the pocket of his pants.

After taking a moment to allow his eyes to track a woman that nearly runs into him, Fenris finally looks forward and makes a low grunt. “I’m starting to wonder which of the two is worse.” 

“You’re just being broody,” y/n groans with a roll of his eyes. “I haven’t seen you complaining much about your obsession with playing video games. /My/ video games, I might add.” While most of the others had grown deep in their own interests of Earth and it’s technology or history, for some reason or another Fenris simply seemed to take an extreme liking to y/n’s g/c. He’s caught Fenris a number of times staying up till the small hours of the morning playing g/g. 

At least he’s taking it well. Out of all of them (with maybe the exception of Varric), Fenris takes the full brunt of the social shock that might be expected of coming from a world with elves, dwarves, qunari and magic and plopped into a world in which had none of that at all. At least y/n could call his pointed ears and markings just something that put him in a subcultural punk group or such. Just as long as he didn’t get angry enough to start glowing. The glowing would be a little hard to try explaining to some very confused workers in the mall.

Fenris keeps tugging on the hood of his sweater, mostly in response as he and y/n walk into a denser crowd of people. Of course, the hoodie isn’t enough to cover all of his face and stark white hair, so there is always an occasional staring that is honestly to be expected. y/n did his best to grasp Fenris’ hand a little tighter as he notices this, doing his best to pull the other’s attention away from his incredible insecurity.

y/n looks to the right, and the brightly colored logo of f/r catches his eyes. Stomach and eyes really, as said bodily organ starts to growl in reminder to the fact that he has not eaten since this morning. He stops walking, pulling on Fenris’ arm perhaps a bit too excitedly as he asks, “Hey, are you hungry at all?” It is a hit or miss if the broody elf would even like the food from f/r, but nevertheless it’s a curiosity. “You haven’t eaten for a while yet either haven’t you?”

Fenris turns his face just enough to let his eyes linger to the sign, as if by looking at it he’ll know exactly the kind of food they serve. Even if he does know, he’s probably never even had it before, y/n has to figure. So the young man tacks on some of the food they make, hoping it might help Fenris’ decision. The elf didn’t respond, and the young man feels a little embarrassed to have suggested something like it.

“Er, or we could go back to my house. We have lots of fruits and bread and stuff you’re more used to.” After all, y/n’s question is probably completely foreign to Fenris, despite that he’s been on Earth for almost three weeks now, though it isn’t counting the time he had knowledge of y/n and his home world beforehand. Still, how could y/n honestly expect him to adjust to all the culture and social to not feel a slight dislike of the strange cuisine? Not that one could even call food from f/r cuisine of sorts, but the idea was still there.

But the elf surprises the young man by making a light humming noise. “Sure,” He says, gently, shrugging his shoulders. “I have no qualms with trying something new. Hawke said that he had food of that kind before, and that it is quite good-tasting.” 

y/n isn’t entirely sure when Hawke had even been taken out of the house to any place that offered that sort of food (unless b/f has been slipping them out of his house again without notice). He decides to ignore it, opting to ask later after returning home. 

After gently pulling on Fenris’ hand again, y/n starts to lead him through the thick maze of people to a table tucked as far away as possible from most of the crowd and noise. In the end he and Fenris settle for a table half-hidden with some classical mall foliage, enough so that Fenris probably won’t feel so vulnerable to sit and relax for a while. It’s a small table with just two chairs, and perfect just for them. He lets Fenris take his seat, but doesn’t sit down in the other.

“You can uh, sit here for a minute,” y/n explains with a light smile. “I’m going to order for us, but I’ll be right back, okay?” He doesn’t give Fenris a lot of time to respond, as he’s quickly leaning forward and pressing a gentle peck of a kiss against the other’s cheek, before stepping away to go order their food. Fenris of course doesn’t say anything, but he does grumble a little and press the palm of his hand against his cheek where y/n’s lips had touched, skin heating up just enough for a light cherry color to be evident.

He sits there for a few minutes, feet propped up on the other chair before finally deciding to pull his hood down. The cloth is itchy and irritates the tips of his ears, not to mention makes an even worse mess of his hair over his eyes. Sweaters are not a type of clothing that Fenris really has a liking for. 

There aren’t a lot of people around, so Fenris didn’t expect to be bombarded with odd looks and even odder questions from complete strangers. Where his lyrium markings were simply odd back in Kirkwall, now it seems the people of y/n’s home found them nearly ten times more out of place. His ears of course were an entirely different issue. It is nice that he wasn’t looked at as a lesser being, though he’s not sure if it’s better being looked at like a freak instead. 

Earth is a really strange place. Populated completely by humans, and not a drop of magic to be seen as of yet (well, what Fenris himself didn’t count as magic; Anders and Hawke saw things a slight differently). As crappy as his own world is, Fenris wouldn’t mind going back soon. At least he knows that y/n would be more than happy to come along with him, given the excitement that has come from the other in the past with subtle suggestions about the topic.

When he hears light footsteps nearing the table, Fenris instinctively looks up. He’s got a hand pressed on the table top and one foot flat on the ground, his body’s first instinct to an unseen appearance of another. It’s unneeded of course, since the person is only y/n holding the tray of food and drink.

“Hey,” he says, chuckling as he sits down opposite of Fenris (who blushes and sits back down again—old habits die hard, especially when one isn’t in his armor). “I wasn’t sure what you really would like, so I just sorta got something…normal? Well, something general, you should like it—er, maybe. If you don’t, we can totally head home and get you something a little more familiar.”

But y/n’s words are lost and half-ignored as Fenris curiously grabs for the drink, looking at it like some sort of child and pinching the plastic straw between his fingers. y/n forces himself not to laugh a bit at the sight, and finally stops bothering to speak. He starts eating wordlessly, while Fenris continues to poke and prod at the drink of all things.

y/n wouldn’t dare say that it almost looks adorable.

Several minutes later and both of them are eating happily, even Fenris. 

“What are these called again?” The elf asks, a mildly surprised expression on his face. It’s very relieving for y/n that Fenris didn’t decide he wouldn’t even try the food, and utterly so that he’s at least seeming to enjoy himself a little bit. His face isn’t so pulled by anxiety or worry. Maybe it’s just the food making it a fact, but y/n smiles a bit more as he watches Fenris eat.

Of course though, before the young man can answer the other’s question, he’s interrupted by a high, loud gasp following the sound of energized footsteps on the tile flooring.

“I told you I told you!” A small voice nearly screeches beside y/n’s head. Fenris’ eyes widen as he and y/n look beside them to see a small boy nearly hanging on the table, a younger girl just behind him. The boy is pointing at Fenris with a look on his face that one could only call utterly amazed. The younger girl, assumedly his younger sister or friend, opens her little mouth in a gasp to reveal her two front teeth missing. They both look barely 6 or 7 years old, and more than slightly excited.

“Ellie, I wasn’t lying!” The boy says, obviously not bothered by the look both y/n and Fenris was given them in a combination of utter shock and very obvious confusion—obviously a little boy and his sister suddenly screaming beside you when you’re trying to eat isn’t a very common occurrence. But the little boy smiles bright and wide and suddenly it makes sense as he continues. “I told you I saw one of santa’s elves in the mall!”

“He kinda looks like Jack Frost,” The little girl mumbles lightly, one fist holding her brother’s shirt. “From tha’ movie. But Jack don’t got those markings on his face.” They’re both staring aptly at Fenris, whom instantly drops his food and starts pulling his hood over his head again in a flurry of embarrassment. His cheeks are flaring a bright red, even after the two kids lose interest when he doesn’t much respond to their questions about Santa or what they were getting for Christmas. Their parents, several tables away, instantly start calling them back when they seem to pick up the commotion, shouting a few embarrassed apologies to y/n and Fenris. 

They don’t much pay attention when their kids aptly try to convince them that ‘that boy in the blue sweater is an elf mommy!’. 

“I swear to the maker,” Fenris mutters beneath his breath, hands still keeping the hood yanked over most of his face a few minutes later. But of course the damage is done, and poor Fenris is probably half-traumatized. “Why did I let you even bring me here to begin with?”

y/n doesn’t really answer, and doesn’t stop laughing until he nearly chokes on a bite of food.

**Author's Note:**

> Waaaah I know it's a day late, but I got sick on Christmas Eve and didn't have time to finish until now. Goodness, I hope it turned out alright.
> 
> As always with readerfics, I'm always open to requests and suggestions! Feel free to message me here or at my [ tumblr](www.sukithefangirl.tumblr.com)!


End file.
